Eddie B Goode
by J3D13
Summary: Cullens clash over Edward's new taste in music. Don't they know it's only Rock and Roll? Takes place in 1957. Warning: Spanking. Don't like, don't read.
1. Roll Over, Beethoven

**A/N:** This story will contain discipline in the form of spanking for one teenage vampire. If this is not your cup of tea, please abandon this story now. I will provide an additional author's note for the chapter that contains the spanking. That is all.

**Roll Over, Beethoven**

_I'm gonna write a little letter,  
Gonna mail it to my local DJ.  
Yeah an' it's a jumpin' little record  
I want my jockey to play.  
Roll over Beethoven, I gotta hear it again today. _

_Roll over Beethoven, Chucky Berry (1957)_

The jingling bells signifying customers' coming and going was nearly drowned out by the loud music and even louder singing in the belly of the small store. People fought their way in and out of the business place, letting in cool air for a moment's reprieve before the front door shut again. The air inside the store was thick with the body heat of nearly 100 teenagers, all crammed inside the little hole in the wall to unwind on a Friday afternoon.

Edward did his best to ignore the sweet scent of blood pumping through every vein as they rocked and swayed to the music blasting from the juke box. Emmett was in the midst of the crowd showing off with Rose. He, however, had better things to do with his time than learn the Bop or the Hop or whatever idiotic dance they invented this week.

He flipped through the dusty LPs looking for a record he hadn't picked up yet. Before they moved from Olympia, Washington to their home here in Port Arthur, Texas, he had a fine gramophone and almost 200 records to listen to. He told Emmett and Jasper to be careful with the boxes from his room while they were loading the UHaul but did they listen? By the time they got to half way to their destination the majority of his collection had shattered. Carlisle and Esme made it up to him by purchasing a new brand new record player solely for his use. It had stereo system, four speeds and a record changer. Edward had been to this store every Friday for the last month, rebuilding his compendium.

It was slow going. Nobody appreciated the classics anymore. This store only had 1 Beethoven LP and no Chopin. Even their Jazz selection was lacking - Ellington only took a man so far on his musical journey.

No, all the store keeper was interested in was selling top 40 garbage to air heads.

Edward shook his head as the crowd bellowed to some rhythmic jungle beat, jumping and swinging and nearly causing each other bodily harm.

That song ended, someone popped in another dime and away they went.

Edward was diligently ignoring the whole thing. Then something changed.

Against his will, Edward's ears perked up as a song he hadn't heard before thrummed from the jukebox speakers. The shrill cry of the piano sent electric pulses to every sleeping nerve in his body. He tried to resist, but after nearly a minute of crazed pacing gave into his urges. Hypnotized, he parted the sea of dancing children to get to the front of the room, the song clicking off just as he elbowed the last jock out of the way. He watched mesmerized as the juke switched to the next record, then turned to the store keeper. The rest of the room danced on, as if nothing strange and freeing and amazing had happened.

"That song that just played, I wasn't able to catch the name of the artist. Who's it by?" He asked.

Emmett stopped shaking his hips to stare at him strangely.

The storekeeper scoffed. "What've you been living under a rock, kid? You never heard of Jerry Lee Lewis?"

The other children close enough to hear the exchange began to snicker.

Edward just resisted baring his teeth. "Sir, I'd like to buy the single if you've got it."

He had to have it. Play it. Learn it. Then wail the tune on his own piano 'til the keys fell off.

"Yeah, sure. No skin off my nose. Just don't come cryin' to me when your parents shout the house down." The man gestured for Edward to follow him to the counter. They exchanged money for record.

"Well, well, well," Emmett came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Look who's finally getting hip!"

Edward gripped the new 45 in his hands lightly and shrugged his shoulders. He could only imagine how good it was going to sound on his new stereo system.

Roll over, Beethoven.


	2. Yakety Yak! (Don't Talk Back!)

**Yakety Yak! (Don't Talk Back!)**

_Take out the papers and the trash  
Or you don't get no spendin' cash  
If you don't scrub that kitchen floor  
You ain't gonna rock and roll no more  
Yakety yak!  
(Don't talk back!)_

_Yakety Yak – The Coasters (1956)_

* * *

Esme juggled two grocery bags through the front door, her husband behind her, and winced at the music blasting from an upstairs bedroom.

She turned back to look at him. "What on earth is that?"

Carlisle gave her a commiserating smile. "Edward's new record player."

Esme shook her head fondly. "I told you not to buy it for him."

Her husband looked back at her unashamed. "Would you rather have him sulking for another two months?"

Giving Carlisle a playful slap on the arm, she grabbed his parcels and sent him back out to the car for more. They didn't eat but they spent more than enough money on soap, toiletries and cleaning supplies for 7 people.

Today had been a good day. She manged to get all her errands done and closed the deal on two office remodeling projects from her new at-home business. The company was in Carlisle's name, half their clientele would immediately scatter if they thought a woman were running things, but she kept the books, drew up the plans, hired contractors and male figureheads to show up to meetings and pretended to speak for the 'higher ups' as Hale Interior Design's only secretary.

Drawing new and interesting layouts was relaxing and the company kept her and Jasper busy during the day. Things were really starting to pick up. Their move to Texas was proving to be great for business.

Esme stopped, her thoughts changing abruptly as she caught sight of the living room on the way to the kitchen area. If only managing her children could be so easy.

Her once spotless rug was now covered with books, shoes, magazines and bottles of nail polish. Puzzle pieces were scattered all over the coffee table and the floor surrounding it. The picture frames that hung above their fire place were all crooked, and was that a _muddy hand print _on her living room wall?

Unwittingly, one of the culprits sat in the middle of the mess, inches from the TV. This, Esme could only guess, was to combat the deafening tune coming from Edward's stereo.

"Emmett!" She called to him.

Her son's eyes stayed locked on the screen. "Ma'am?"

"What happened to my living room?"

With great effort Emmett turned his head towards her. "Oh. Yeah," he responded sheepishly. "We were gonna clean it up, Mom, honest."

"Really?" she asked, only a little amused. "When?"

Emmett gave her an innocent smile. "Uh, right now?"

"Good answer. Where are your siblings?"

"Rose, Alice!" Her oldest stood up to bellow. "Edward, Jasper, come get your junk off the floor!"

"Emmett," Esme laughed. "I'll do that. Take these." She handed him the grocery bags. "Put them away. Then you can get started washing your hand print off the wall."

She ignored his grumble of, "I have to everything around here," and climbed the stairs in search of her other children. She was half way up the steps when three of them came thundering down.

"Don't worry, Mom," Alice skipped, holding her mate by the hand. "We'll have this place spotless in minutes."

"But I already cleaned today," Jasper protested as she dragged him along.

Rose finished the train. "I don't see why we have to pick up and Prince Edward doesn't," she commented to Esme as she passed. "Half off that trash is his. And could you tell him to turn off that racket? It's making my ears numb."

"He's coming," Esme responded with her usual patience. "Be sure to tell him to pick up his rose petal nail polish and fashion magazines."

"I will," Rose responded without a beat, flouncing away.

Within moments Esme arrived on the second floor. The music had not decreased in volume since she entered the house, but she had no doubt that her youngest had heard her thoughts about the living room if not her voice.

"Edward," she called over the noise.

It wasn't until she neared his bedroom that she actually paid attention to the words being spoken over the shrill piano.

_Easy Now (lower)  
Shake it Ahhhh... Shake it babe  
Yeah... You can shake one time for me  
Well I said come over baby  
Whole lot of shakin' goin' on_

_Now lets get real low one time now  
Shake baby shake  
All you gotta honey is kinda stand in one spot  
wiggle around just a little bit  
thats what you gotta do yeah...  
Oh babe whole lotta shakin' goin' on_

"Edward," she knocked loudly on his bedroom door.

"What?"

Her eyes narrowed and her hand moved to her hip as she waited. "Pardon?"

The music turned down and the door clicked open a second later.

Edward poked his head out. "Yes, ma'am?"

_That's better._

"Come downstairs and help your siblings-"

"-Straighten up the living room. I will, Mother. Just let me put this record away."

Esme walked fully into the bedroom and watched him straighten things up. "Edward, what was that you were just listening to?"

"Oh, it's the new 45 I picked out yesterday. Plays like a dream," he busied himself with putting the music back in its sleeve.

Esme shook her head. "Edward."

"Hm?"

"Were you paying any attention to what that man was singing?"

"What do you mean?" Edward asked. His innocent expression might have fooled her, had she not lived with him for over 20 years.

Esme crossed her arms over her chest. _You know what I mean, Edward. All that talk about moving and shaking…_

"Oh, that," Edward laughed. "He's only talking about dancing, Mother. It's harmless."

"Well, I don't approve of his kind of dancing," Esme replied. "It's vulgar."

"Vulgar?" Edward scoffed. "It doesn't say much of anything. They could be talking about Jello for all we know. It wriggles and shakes and -"

"You know exactly what they're referring to, Edward Cullen." Esme interjected. "And I don't like that kind of trash in our home. I honestly don't think I like this Rock and Roll business at all. They have not a sweet, wholesome word to say about anything."

Edward stopped laughing. "You want me to throw it away?"

"No, Edward, if you would prefer to return it to the store and get your money back…"

"I'm not doing that," Edward frowned.

Downstairs she could hear the front door close as the rest of her children made a break for the woods. It was one of the many signs things were about to turn ugly.

Esme counted mentally, trying for patience. There was chance of holding off that famous Edward Cullen temper, but it was very slim.

"Edward I realize that you're upset, but I can't have that kind of language floating around our household. It's too graphic. You might be too young to understand the impact-"

"Too young?" Her son pinched the bridge of his nose. "Esme, don't patronize me."

"No one is patronizing you, Edward Anthony, stop it," Esme held firm. "I'm only saying that words can be very damaging. This music goes completely over the line. The way they pervert relationships-."

"It's not perverted," Edward cut her off. "It's art. Did you bother to listen to the music?"

Esme looked at him with disbelief. "Edward, listen to yourself. All they're trying to do is see how much filth they can get away with on the radio. That Presley boy, for example. He's been banned from several stations in this month alone."

"What has that got to do with me?" Edward grumped. "I'm not Elvis."

"The point is," Esme stressed, "that we respect ourselves enough in this home to listen to clean music."

"Like Jazz?" Her son answered back. "You know, back in our day they called it devil's worship, but I don't see you and Carlisle throwing Thelonius Monk in the garbage."

"Edward, that's enough." Esme was fed up with this conversation and fed up with her son's sass. "The record is going back and that's the end of it."

"I'm not giving it back. It's mine," Edward raised his voice.

"Do not talk back to me, Edward Anthony," Esme chastised. Couldn't her children, once, accept no as an answer?

"You're not listening to me! You're being unreasonable!"

"What is going on in here?" Carlisle appeared in the door way, fixing their son a firm look. He must have been listening to the argument from downstairs.

"_She_ won't let me play the music that I bought," their youngest seethed, fists balled at his sides.

"She is your mother, young man," Carlisle answered swiftly. Edward's expression immediately softened at his father's tone. "You would do well to remember that."

Esme looked to her husband. _I should cool down and let him handle this one,_ she thought. She knew Edward was prone to tantrums but that didn't mean she had to put up with them.

"I'm not having a tantrum," Edward snapped.

Esme leaned against the wall, refusing to engage Edward in another power struggle and counted backwards from 1000.

"Edward," Carlisle warned.

"Why do I bother? You're already on _her _side." Edward plopped on his bed. "I don't get what the big deal is. They're only words."

"Edward Anthony," her husband's voice was calm but steely. "I'll ask you one more time to calm down and mind your tongue."

Edward chose to glare at the window and did not answer.

Having got down to 136, Esme felt calm enough to speak again.

"I'm not trying to be a stick in the mud," she started, "and I don't usually mind the music Edward brings home, but those lyrics are completely inappropriate. Listen to the song Edward was playing earlier, Carlisle, and see for yourself," she told her husband.

Carlisle shook his head. "I don't need to listen to it, Esme. I trust your judgement. What I heard from downstairs was more than enough."

"What?" Edward cried jumping up from his seat. "You're not even going to try to see my side? At least give it a chance."

"You're having a fit," Carlisle answered him evenly. "If this is what that type of music does for your behavior I definitely don't approve of it."

"I paid for that record," Edward protested, marching back towards his stereo.

"With your allowance," Esme couldn't help but chime in.

Edward shot her a dirty look. "I was speaking to Dad."

Before she could respond, Carlisle made quick steps towards their son, startling the both of them. He didn't stop at Edward but continued on to the record player beside him, reaching down the unplug it before picking the whole system up.

"Dad!"

"I warned you," Carlisle said quietly as Edward stared at him in disbelief. "You know better than to speak to your mother that way. This stays with me for the next week. And if I hear anymore nonsense out of you about this music, you won't see it again for two months."

"You can't do that," Edward argued.

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. "I can't? Give your mother the record and apologize for your mouth."

Edwards eyes darted to Esme, to the forbidden music still in its sleeve and back to his father. With jerky movements he grabbed the record, walked over to Esme and held it out for her to take.

She took the contraband, feeling no better for having it in her hands.

"Edward, we're waiting," her husband ordered.

The boy starred daggers at the floor. "Not sorry. This isn't fair."

Carlisle growled. "Do you want me to make you sorry, young man?"

Edward tensed at the threat, but didn't lift his eyes. After a moment Esme heard a short, murmured, ''Sorry, Esme."

Behind him she saw Carlisle lift his eyes heavenward. They had the situation under control, now it was best to leave the boy alone to cool off.

As if acting with one mind, Carlisle picked up the record player to be carried out at the same time Esme removed herself from the wall. Her husband gave their youngest one last direction to stay in his bedroom until called, then the two of them walked down to the first floor study together. It would be best to keep the system there, where Edward wouldn't be tempted to use it before the week was through.

Esme couldn't bring herself to toss the record out like she first planned. Not just yet. She left it on top of the record player, knowing that it would remain untouched for the time being. She was frustrated and unhappy, as was usually the case when one of her children were out of sorts. She knew she was doing the right thing, but she still hated to be strict. One could only hope that Edward would eventually calm down enough to see reason, hopefully before he dragged the whole house into his bad mood.


	3. Shake, Rattle and Roll

**A/N:** Hey, guys. Thank you so much for all of the reviews I've gotten so far. You're awesome. Sorry this chapter took so long to write. Hope you like it.

**Shake, Rattle and Roll**

_Shake, Rattle and Roll_

_I said, Shake, Rattle and Roll_

_Well you never do nothin' _

_To save your doggone soul_

Shake, Rattle and Roll - Bill Haley and the Comets (1954)

* * *

Arriving home from school Monday afternoon, Edward stomped through the house, leaving a cheerful Emmett and Rose to take control of the television set. Carlisle and Esme weren't home and he didn't have to be polite. His oldest siblings ignored him, switching the tube on and turning up the volume as loud as it would go. Alice called for Jasper and the two of them beat a hasty retreat for the woods. Edward knew from their thoughts that they were trying to get away from him, but he didn't care. He yanked his bedroom door open, threw his books onto his desk and flopped onto the bed.

Being grounded from his music pissed him off and he wasn't above letting everyone in the house know it. The weekend had been torturous. His siblings had tried to distract him but he refused to go hunting, play catch or see a movie. Instead he spent all of Saturday and Sunday hauled up his room, acting out imaginary arguments with his parents about censorship. He was the victor every time. In the safety of his bedroom his speech was not restricted by threat of grounding or otherwise so he really let 'Carlisle' and 'Esme' have it.

Today was only a little better. The only bright spot in school was music class and even then, having to slog through Moonlight Sonata with his remedial classmates for back up was not his idea of a good time. Normally he'd be only happy to show off for the class, but this week it was the only music he was allowed. It took every ounce of his self-control not to break from and wail on the keys with the unhinged energy Jerry mastered. All he wanted was the right to free expression and nothing else seemed nearly as fun or exciting in comparison.

Edward had no idea how to go about making his parents understand how unfair they were being without being fussed at for 'talking back'. He'd slammed doors for the first few hours after their spat to show his frustration with the situation, but that quickly left him feeling childish. He knew his record and player were still in Carlisle's office but he didn't dare try stealing them back for a listen. Carlisle had a knack for noticing if something had been moved even a fraction of an inch. It was one of the reasons they could never hide holes in the walls by moving furniture.

Mind still dwelling on his troubles, Edward gave a deep sigh.

There was nothing doing. He couldn't help his parent's immaturity. For now he resolved himself to not speaking with them unless spoken to and abstaining from all family activities until Carlisle and Esme realized their error.

They were concerned about him (serves them right) but determined to stand strong. That's what made Edward the angriest. They thought they knew everything just because they were born a few years earlier than he was. Who were they to say what was the right or wrong kind of music to listen to? And besides, Edward didn't see Carlisle and Esme jumping down Emmett's throat for fondling Rose on the dance floor every Friday afternoon. Edward listened to the happy music downstairs, his siblings singing loudly along side it.

_They're hollering about a girl named Sue who knows just what to do, but I'm the heathen in the family, _he thought acidly.

If only Carlisle and Esme knew the kind of things his siblings did and said when they weren't around. The hypocrisy in this household was disgusting. He'd bet that they were being harder on him because he was the baby. Or their first born. Both. Whatever. The point stood; the rules should apply to everyone.

A high, off-pitch note from Emmett broke the last thread of his tolerance. He stood up and headed downstairs to the living room.

"Do you mind turning it down?" He snapped at the couple from the bottom step. "I can't think with all this noise."

Rose responded, not even bothering to turn around. "You can't think, period."

Edward sneered. "Get bent, Rose."

"Get lost, Edward."

Emmett looked behind him. "Be cool, Edwired. Relax. Watch the show with us."

"No way," Edward pointed to the TV, arms crossed. "Mother would faint if she saw the two of you listening to that,"

"Mother isn't here," Rose snipped. She finally turned to face him as their program had gone to commercial.

Edward casually responded. "Someone could tell her."

"If that someone wants a knuckle sandwich," Emmett cut in, a challenge in his eyes. "Don't be mad at us 'cause you got caught with your pants down. Esme doesn't get home until 4:30. Until then it's our time."

A growl formed low in Edward's chest but he quickly checked it when he realized Emmett was putting some serious thought into socking him one. He was already in enough trouble without getting into a fight. Besides, his brothers punches really hurt. They didn't call him the strongest family member for nothing.

Instead he plopped himself on the arm chair, tried hard not to pout. "Carlisle and Esme don't know good music."

Emmett smiled, dimples showing. "Ain't that a bite? Where'd you think you got your bad taste from?"

Edward rolled his eyes. Emmett wasn't pleased with himself unless he managed to bust someone's chops each day. Namely his.

Instead of getting angry, he smirked back. "I wouldn't be laughing so hard, jackhole. If they took my record away what do you think they're going to do to all of your sleezy music? No more dirty dancing for you and Rose."

"Edward, Edward, Edward. They can't tell you not to do something if they don't see you doing it," Emmett sing-songed. "Notice I only watch American Bandstand when Esme is out shopping. Fire crackers and cherry bombs- hidden in my closet 'til the fourth of July. Dirty mags? Stashed under the bed."

"You hide _what_ under our bed?" Rosalie pinched his arm.

"Ow. Babe, I'm kidding." Emmett winced and rubbed the sore spot. "Point is. What the rents don't know won't hurt 'em."

His sister jerked a thumb at him. "I wouldn't be spilling your secrets to Edward if I were you, Emmett. He just threatened to rat on us."

"Nah." Emmett brushed her concerns away with a swipe of his hand. "Edward's wouldn't really snitch. Would you, Ed?"

Edward was very tempted to say 'yes' just to see Emmett's face, but the likelihood of him ratting on his brother unprovoked was slim to none. No, this information would be stored away and kept secret until it could be used for leverage at a later date.

"Don't call me Ed," he replied grumpily, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Emmett ignored him. "I'm tellin' you, baby brother, the music problem's no big deal."

"Right," Edward sat back in a huff. "Says the guy who gets away with everything. I breathe wrong and get in trouble."

It wasn't true, but Edward wasn't really concerned with facts at the moment.

"That's because you're a cherry and haven't mastered the art of the loophole yet." Emmett nodded anyway.

"I'm not a cherry," Edward protested.

"Yes, you are," Rose assured him. "Carlisle and Esme said you couldn't listen to that record. Did they say you couldn't listen to _any_ Jerry Lewis?"

"They made it pretty clear that-"

Emmett cut him off with shake of his head. "Did they _say _you couldn't?"

"_No_," Edward answered back in kind.

"Then the answer is simple." Emmett took off suddenly and came back before Edward had time to fully question why he'd left.

"Ta Da!" His older brother brandished a slightly used 45 at him.

Edward took it from him, a small crooked smile forming on his lips as he read the cover.

"The good thing about singles," Emmett smiled. "There's usually more than one of them."

"Boss," Edward gave his brother a thankful punch on the arm. "Is it anything like the first?"

"Better," Emmett looked mischievous. "Dirtier. Just don't play it when Esme's around this time, nosebleed."

"You're a good big brother, Em," Rose praised from the couch. "Giving hope to the dopes."

Edward couldn't even find it in himself to be annoyed with their name-calling. "Thanks a lot. Only I can't listen to it until next week."

Emmett closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So much to learn. You're still not getting this, square. Why can't you listen to the record now?"

"Carlisle took my record player."

Emmett looked at him expectantly.

"...But he didn't say I couldn't use the record player in the sitting room," Edward finished for himself.

Emmett nodded in approval, pushing Edward over to the stereo "Now you're catching on. Shake, Rattle and Roll, baby brother. _After_ my show."

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? How long do you think the 'Emmett Method' will work for Edward? 'Til next time :)


	4. Hound Dog

**A/N: **Wow, you guys! That's the most reviews I've gotten for a chapter so far. Thanks a bunch. I hope you find this chapter equally as enjoyable. It contains a scene of mild corporal punishment, so read at your own risk.

* * *

**Hound Dog**

_You ain't nothin' but a Hound Dog_

_Cryin' all the time_

_Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit_

_And you ain't no friend of mine_

_Hound Dog_ - Mama Thorton, cover by Elvis Presley (1956)

Lifting his arms up in a big stretch, Jasper followed his wife out of their bedroom window as the sun peeked out among the trees in their front yard. He landed in the grass with a soft thump and Alice smiled back at him. Reaching for her hand the two of them went to meet the rest of the coven waiting at the edge of the woods.

His new mother insisted they hunt as a family every morning. Right around 6 AM she'd make her rounds around the house, badgering each child away from their baseball cards or their mates and make them get ready for school. Then she'd herd everyone to the front yard for 'breakfast'.

Rose looked as prim and neat as always, hair falling in carefully set ringlet curls and pressed skirt barely meeting the knee length requirement. Emmett looked like he threw his clothes on thirty seconds before coming outside but had his hair greased and slicked back into a perfect Duck Butt. Carlisle and Esme (dressed for work) were talking quietly to each other.

The only person really cheesed off about hunting was Edward. He leaned against a tree away from the rest of the family, his face set in a seemingly permanent scowl. The kid had managed to get out of their family meal yesterday by claiming he was full, but today Carlisle practically dragged him to the woods.

The tension prickled against Jasper's skin like thorns in a brier patch and he reminded himself what Alice said about staying out of it.

The way she told it, Edward was dead set on being a pain in the rear until he got what he wanted. Thankfully, he had become 10 times easier to deal since Emmett gave him that record. Now Jasper could at least tolerate being in the same house as him.

That irritating song played non stop every time their parents were out of ear shot. Personally, he didn't understand Carlisle and Esme's stance against popular music (every good song had a least a little innuendo in it) but it wasn't a fight worth getting a hiding over. And this would blow up in Edward's face. That was for certain.

Edward looked up at his last thought and glared at him.

Jasper looked back with a raised eyebrow and scoffed. _Really? Was that all he had? The boy wouldn't know intimidation if it sucked on his big toe._

Esme smiled when he noticed the two of them approaching. "Alright, it looks like we're all here. We should set off before it gets too late."

Everyone in the family nodded. Everybody except one.

Edward groaned loudly. "Do I have to go?"

"Yes, Edward, for the hundredth time this morning," Carlisle said, "You have to hunt with the rest of the family."

"I'm not thirsty," the boy grumbled. "I don't see why I have to go."

"Teddy, don't act this way," Esme beseeched, walking over to put a hand on her youngest's arm. "It's been days since you've hunted. You could use a little breakfast."

Emmett snickered and the corners of Jasper's mouth twitched at Edward's old and much hated nickname. Esme tried not to call him Teddy out loud, per Edward's request, but she slipped up when she was worried about him.

"Yeah, Ted, it'll be fun," Emmett snorted.

Edward ducked out of Esme's grasp. "Stop calling me that. Contrary to popular belief in this household, I am not five years old. I can make decisions for myself."

"Edward..." Esme's disappointment felt like bricks in Jasper's stomach.

"We're wasting daylight," Rose complained, smoothing out her skirt. "Let the baby starve himself if he likes."

"Why don't you shut your face, Rose."

Jasper rolled his eyes.

Rose and Edward had been bickering all morning. First over who was going to shower first, then over who left the television on last night. It was like they couldn't help themselves. Edward wanted Rose as miserable as he was and she liked to pick at him until he blew.

"I'm only saying-"

Edward sneered. "Yes, thanks again for sticking your giant nose where it doesn't belong."

"You're welcome. If you're going to cry and whine the entire time we don't want you to come." She turned towards the woods.

"Hush," Carlisle directed towards her. "Edward is coming on the hunt. End of discussion."

Edward grumbled lowly. "First I can't choose my own music, now I can't decide whether or not I need to feed. Next week, they'll be helping me get dressed in the morning."

Jasper watched Carlisle swallow down his annoyance. "You are treading on very thin ice, young man. I would can the attitude if I were you."

Edward looked mutinous and Jasper wondered for a moment if he'd tell on himself about the record just to see Carlisle's head explode. His little brother must have been listening to his thoughts, because he caught his eye and a small smirk formed on his lips.

"Fine," Edward shrugged, suddenly looking disinterested with the whole conversation. "It's your rules."

He took off before the rest of them, blithely humming the tune their parents knew nothing about. Jasper stared after him, mouth open. He'd essentially flipped Carlisle and Esme off in song.

"He's playing with fire, man," Emmett said lowly.

With a troubled look at his remaining siblings, Jasper followed his parents to the forest.

They zipped through the trees, working together to track and take down a large herd of deer. It was a foreign concept to Jasper (working as a team instead of fighting over blood) but he found himself satisfied as he crouched before two bucks. That was until he noticed Rose and Edward snipping at each other not 20 feet from him. Edward hadn't even attempted to help them corner the herd, but used his speed to sidestep Rose and grab the deer she'd been eyeing.

To be perfectly honest Jasper was sick of it all and would have asked if he and Alice could hunt solo, if he thought he stood a chance of being granted the request.

"Would you get away from me, Edward?" Rose snapped, settling down next to a smaller doe. "Do you have to lay your deer right next to mine? Haven't you ever heard of personal space?"

"I took my kill down first." Edward retorted. "You're in my space, princess."

"That was my deer and you know it. Ugh, you're such a child!"

"Believe me, Rosalie, no child would come within 100 feet of you."

"Edward, Rosalie, stop bickering," Esme interrupted in from 50 feet away.

"What did I do?" Edward protested, looking up at their mother. "She's the one bothering me."

"_Both_ of you leave _each other_ alone," Esme said sternly.

"Whatever," Edward mumbled a little too loudly.

"What did you say?" Esme pressed.

"I said, 'yes ma'am,'" Edward answered louder, his back turned to her.

Alice sighed. He gave her a sad, sympathetic smile then busied himself with draining his own kill. He had to feel their anger, but there was no telling what Alice was seeing in their futures.

Edward ignored them and went back to humming his song, not even bothering with his prey. This incised Rose even more. It would have bothered him too. What kind of person stole someone else's food and didn't even bother to eat it?

"-Stupid sneak."

"-Whiny shrew."

"Gee, Edward, what's that song you keep humming?" Rose asked him much too loudly to be innocent. "Is it new?"

Jasper bit his lip. That was a low one even for Rose. There wasn't much worse in his eyes than a snitch. Was she really going to rat on Edward?

Edward glanced at his parents before answering back. "It's about a stupid girl who couldn't keep her trap shut."

"Oh," Rose continued sweetly. "I thought it was about a little snot who tried to act like a big shot and fell on his lopsided face."

"Have you heard the one about the guy who told his siblings to shut it?" Jasper grunted to himself.

"It's curious," Rose commented. "I thought you weren't allowed any music this week and yet you've learned a brand new song. Isn't that curious, Dad?"

Carlisle looked up from his meal with an annoyed look. Clearly he hadn't been listening too hard to the conversation but it didn't take a rocket scientist to know when Rose was being antagonistic, Jasper thought.

Emmett looked up at the two of them with wide eyes. "Rose, baby, forget about him. Why don't you come over by me? We can share."

A wash of relief swept over Edward as he realized he was still in the clear and a devious smile formed on his face. "If you must know, Rose, I learned it from Emmett." He smirked. "You might want to ask him about it."

If looks could kill Rose would have had Edward six feet deep.

"Leave Emmett out of this, you ungrateful prick."

"-Insufferable wench."

"Enough." Carlisle voice snapped like a whip through the clearing. "Do not make me come over there."

His sister squared her shoulders and turned back to her food. Edward continued playing with his. Neither one of them were stupid enough to continue shouting at each other after Carlisle's warning, but he could hear them still hissing at each other. Well, Edward was hissing. Rosalie was most likely berating him mentally. Jasper couldn't help but watch; those two were a train wreck.

He itched to send calming waves their way, if for nothing else than to give himself some peace! Draining the last of his two bucks, he sat back. He gave Alice a pleading look but she shook her head.

He sighed as Edward continued to poke at his deer. He understood it was a supposed to be another act of defiance against his parents, to leave the deer untouched, but man what a waste!

Maybe Edward wouldn't mind if he took it.

"You've got some nerve," he heard Rose hiss at him. "Stealing my food out from under me and letting it go cold."

"Nobody stole your food, your highness," Edward whispered fiercely, his anger broiling below the surface. Apparently Rose's mental taunting was getting to him. "I got here first fair and square."

"After you knew I had my eye on it," Rose answered in the same tone. "You're pathetic,Teddy. No wonder mommy and daddy won't let you listen to bad words on the radio. Guess Emmett and I will be going to the record store without you on Friday."

Seeing an imminent eruption, Jasper belatedly tried to shoot some soothing energy Edward's way, but it did no good.

"Why don't you leave me the hell alone?" His brother shouted. "You want the deer so badly? Here, you can have it!" He ripped a leg off the animal in one fluid movement and flung it at her.

Rose leapt back, but couldn't fully dodge the splatter of blood that came her way. Droplets landed on her outfit and the knees of her stockings.

"You troll!" She shrieked. "You ruined my skirt!"

"Oops," Edward said.

Esme and Emmett jumped between the pair before Rosalie could tear Edward's head off.

"Rose, it's alright. Calm down. It will wash out," Esme tried to soothe.

"It won't," Rosalie cried, crocodile tears in her eyes. "It's blood. I ordered this skirt from New York."

"We have club soda in the pantry, I've gotten stains out before." Esme turned Rose back towards the house with Emmett's help.

"- I hate him! I want him punished!"

Taking in the scene, Jasper turned to look at his younger brother. Edward's expression was innocent but inside he was amused and very satisfied.

Alice shot their brother a dirty look. "I'll help you pick out a new outfit, Rose."

Jasper grabbed her hand as she passed. "Don't get involved," he reminded her out of the corner of his mouth.

Alice frowned. "Trust me, this is the only way I'm going to stay _out_ of trouble. Edward's on his own."

Alice and Esme led a still fuming Rose through the trees and back towards the house. Emmett stayed back. Jasper could feel his older brother was embarrassed on behalf of his wife and his facial expression promised retribution if Carlisle didn't do the job.

As it was, their father waited until the female trio was no longer in ear shot before marching over and snatching Edward by the collar. "Get up."

"What?" Edward sputtered. "I didn't mean to throw it at her. It slipped out of my hand."

Carlisle words were clipped. "Get. Up."

Edward's face scrunched up in defiance as he got to his feet.

Carlisle grabbed his arm. "Over."

"But-"

"Now. Or I'll take my belt off and do it properly."

Edward let out an angry puff of breath before bending over at the waist.

Their father's hand came down twice with force, the grip he had on Edward's shoulder the only thing keeping the boy from toppling over.

"Look at me," Carlisle ordered when he was through.

Edward straightened up, his posture stiff, anger rolling off of him in waves.

"What in heaven's name has gotten into you, boy?"

"Nothing," his brother practically shouted. "You and Esme always blame me."

Carlisle was unimpressed. "Yes, Edward, do tell us how unfair we are stopping you from using profanity and throwing things at your sister."

Edward argued. "I didn't throw anything. I only swung it at her. What about Rosalie's punishment? I don't see Esme walloping her, and she started this whole mess!"

_"_You did take her deer," Emmett pointed out.

"Who asked you?" Edward spat at him.

"Edward Anthony, I don't care who started what," Carlisle decided. "I am tired of your attitude. Ever since we took that record away, you have been ill mannered and disrespectful."

Edward crossed his arms. "People act out of character when their rights are taken away without reason."

Carlisle didn't budge. "I'm your father, that's enough reason on its own. In case you have forgotten, you do not make the rules around here, young man."

"That much is obvious," Edward muttered.

Jasper could feel Carlisle's aura buzzing around him like angry hornets disturbed from their hive. His father's eyes closed briefly and he took a deep breath before speaking.

"Edward Anthony, go to school," he ordered with forced calm. "Go now, before I lose what little patience I have left for you. We'll deal with this when you get home."

"Deal with it?" Edward scowled. "You already dealt with it. Or did you forget you just hit me."

Carlisle pointed in the direction of the road. "Go. Now."

"Fine," Edward muttered, looking away.

Carlisle gripped his chin and turned him back to face him. "That's 'yes sir', young man," he growled.

"Yes, sir," Edward answered through gritted teeth. "Can I go now, sir?"

Carlisle sighed and released him.

Edward took off towards town, running past the trees in a vicious blur. Branches and twigs snapped loudly as he ran.

Emmett looked after him and whistled lowly. "I'll go after him. Just let me grab my things first." Emmett was no longer angry. In his eyes Carlisle had already made things square between Edward and Rose. Now his big brother instincts were kicking in. Jasper admired his forgiving nature. He didn't think he would be as softhearted if it were Alice covered in deer's blood.

Jasper watched his older brother run back to the house and sighed with relief. His emotional load had lightened considerably now that most of his family members were gone.

_You're a brave soldier,_ _Emmett,_ he thought. No way would he want to spend a whole school day with an angry Edward. Good thing he wasn't allowed to go. Sometimes it paid to be a danger to humans.

Carlisle looked at him with a weary smile. "Shall we head back, Tex? I have a feeling neither Rose nor Alice is going to attend school today."

Jasper smiled back and pushed feelings of peace and positive energy towards him.

"That might be for the best."

* * *

We have a ticked off Carlisle, a ticked off Rose, an even more furious Edward and a brave Emmett. What will happen next, I wonder. A side note: Did you know way back when it was a trend for nicknames to rhyme with your full name? That's why Bill is a nickname for William, Bob for Robert and Ted for Edward. TTFN!


	5. Whole 'lot of Shakin' Goin' On

**A/N: Hello! Here's the latest installment. Thank you for all the marvelous reviews :) Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

**Whole 'lot of Shakin' Goin' On**

_Oh, baby, we got chickens in the barn_

_Yeah, baby, we've got the bull by the horns_

_We ain't fakin' _

_Whole lot of shakin' goin' on_

_Whole lot of Shakin' Goin' On - Jerry Lee Lewis (1957)_

* * *

Edward sat in his second to last class of the day - orchestra- slowing falling into a stupor. It was unavoidable with the achingly slow pace they were taking.

They had started working on Rhapsody in Blue for their spring concert yesterday. An exciting composition - when he heard it in 1924. Talk about a snooze fest. He didn't want to count how many times he'd played this same piece in different high school orchestras over the last thirty years. It always happened the same way. It was hard not to cringe, or get up and walk out of the classroom, at the mere thought of having to 'practice' this piece again.

He could play the piano part blind folded. With his fingers detached. It made the whole process very hard to endure. Even more so since their music teacher, Mr. Levitt, gave the solo parts to a clarinet.

Edward tried to not to feel insulted. His other music teachers had always given him the solo, where he could at least pretend to entertain himself with little ad-libs here and there. Mr. Levitt, however, felt bad about giving Edward the solo pieces all of the time. He felt the spotlight shone on Edward's skills as a musician in the school plenty, which was true. Not that Edward had to like being snubbed.

Unfortunately, the boy who did earn the part didn't know how to glissando and was butchering the opening. Not that the rest of the orchestra was much better. Nope, they screeched and honked and made Edward's ears ring.

He kept his mouth shut about it all for the most part, but today the whole scene was grating against his nerves. It was hard not to get aggravated when the class couldn't get past the 15th measure without someone goofing up. And Edward's super sonic hearing caught every mistake. On top of that, Paul didn't even _want_ to do the solo. He kept whining about it over and over in his mind and Edward had half a mind to tell Mr. Levitt so. In his opinion, the kid could have used his forehead to play the part and it wouldn't have sounded any worse.

Edward eyeballed the clock and mentally tallied up the wasted minutes. Oh well. There wasn't anything he could do about it. Letting the squawking of the orchestra and his teacher's discouraged monologue float over his head, Edward focused on more pressing matters.

With time and brain power to spare he could silently fume over the unfair treatment he'd received from his parents that morning. His hind end had recovered but his pride was still smarting.

No matter how many times he replayed the morning's events in his mind, they did not make an iota of sense to him. How come he was always the one in the wrong? Rosalie had started the entire argument. Had his parents gone temporarily deaf while she was harassing him?

It figured. He couldn't even enjoy the music playing in his head without someone badgering him.

No doubt Carlisle was waiting until he got home to clobber him some more, while Rose got a free shopping trip for more skirts she didn't need.

He supposed they were still sore at him for arguing about the music so vehemently, but it was no cause to blame him for everything.

Edward was absolutely sick of being punished. That he knew for sure. He couldn't take one more scolding or disapproving look.

All week he'd been catching all sorts of grief and for what? A few little words. A 5 dollar record. As if all Edward's morals and sensibilities would fly out the window at the mere mention of relations with the opposite sex.

It always chafed a bit when Carlisle and Esme pulled the parent card, but this was demeaning.

He was tired of being pushed around. He wasn't sure what he was going to about it, but he knew he wasn't going to take it for much longer.

At least, Edward allowed, his folks hadn't gotten hip about the second record. Playing it was the only thing keeping him sane while on restriction. Plus, it kind of felt good to get one over on his parents for once. Sneaking wasn't the best way to get what he wanted, but as far as he was concerned a little rebellion never hurt anyone. Besides, they wouldn't listen to reason. What other choice did he have?

The only problem was the song was so good, Edward had a hard time getting it out of his head. The more he played it, the more he had to listen to it. And the more he listened to it, the more the tune and lyrics swam around his head on instant repeat.

The music's energy was coursing through his system and if he didn't get an outlet soon, it was possible he'd burst from the tension.

He longed to try out the song on his own hands. Maybe, he thought, once he was allowed back the piano at home he could try it out. As long as he didn't sing the lyrics, he doubted his parents would know what was going on.

Unless Rosalie told on him of course.

Edward scoffed to himself at that thought and turned his attention back to the class.

"No, no, Paul. You're not breathing from your diaphragm. Did you warm up before we started? Try again."

Mr. Levitt was about as aggravated as Edward was. The music teacher was seriously considering turning the solo over to Edward, just to give their orchestra a fighting chance come performance time. But at this point Edward didn't care anymore. He wasn't allowed to play what he wanted at home, why should school be any different?

Before Mr. Levitt could give out any more directions to the rest of the group there was a knock at the door. A brief conversation took place between the teacher and a freshman errand boy before Mr. Levitt turned back to the class with an apologetic smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I need to make a quick trip to the office. Cullen, would you pick up for the class where we left off, please? Try to help Paul with his trill. Make sure you count them off. Everyone, follow Edward's lead. I'll be right back."

As soon as the man left the class put down their instruments and broke out into loud chatter. They had no intention of following Edward's lead or listening to him at all.

Edward sighed. He didn't have nearly enough patience or investment in this piece to even attempt at controlling the class.

Nobody was paying attention to him and so he let his fingers tap against the keys softly, thinking to himself.

And just like that it hit him again. The heart pounding intro, the drums, the catchy lyrics and of course the feverish piano. It clouded his brain, making him smile brightly to himself. He hummed the little tune.

Edward's fingers itched, he felt a phantom shudder run through his body as he fought to stay still.

He looked around. The class was immersed in stupid, adolescent chatter. He could get away with playing quietly...

_No_. Edward shook his head to clear it. _If Carlisle and Esme had kittens about rock and roll at home, heaven only knew what the school would say._

But why was he letting adults dictate every facet of his life? Adults that weren't even present, by the way. It was only music. Didn't he say he was tired of being pushed around? Didn't he say he could make his own decisions?

What the heck. He wasn't bothering anybody. And it wasn't like his classmates could tell him what to do. There weren't any bossy, snotty, tattle-tale siblings around either.

Throwing caution to the wind, he decided he didn't care anymore either way. For once this week he was going to do what he wanted to do, without hiding.

He brought his hands back up to the keyboard and swore he felt a warm, welcoming glow underneath his finger tips encouraging him to get cookin'. He banged his fingertips against the ivories as hard as he dared, first playing the instrumental exactly as he'd heard it before, then adding his own tidbits here and there.

He felt refreshed. Vindicated. Alive.

The class grew quieter. A few chairs scraped against the floor.

"Alright, Cullen!" One of his classmates exclaimed.

A small crowd quickly formed around him and his piano. Apparently in their haste to hear the music they'd forgotten how much they despised the musician. He tried to ignore them, but his ego had been boosted by their approval. He let his fingers fly and slide along the board as a few of his classmates erupted into cheers. He started over from the top and this time nearly everyone began to sing.

_You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain _

_Too much love drives a man insane _

_You broke my will, but what a thrill _

_Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire_

Somewhere in the background he heard someone hop on the drums and try to keep time. Edward watched bemused as kids began dancing wildly between the rows of chairs around them. Not bothered in the least at the turn of events, he kept on playing.

_Kiss me baby, woo feels good _

_Hold me baby, I want to love you like a lover should _

_Your fine, so kind_

_I want to tell the world that your mine mine mine mine_

Edward did his best work in the interlude, trying out the improvisation he'd been working on in his head all week, but was unable to try out.

He was in his own zone and couldn't be reached from this side of the universe. Only he and the music mattered. The orchestra piano was battered without mercy. In the corner of his mind, he heard students in the gym next door scrambling to see where all noise was coming from.

Seemingly hours, probably only a moments, later a rough shake broke Edward from his trance. He turned to snarl at whoever was touching him and trying to break up his party when he realized it was Emmett.

"Edward, stop it, man!" His brother exclaimed over the din, giving him a shake. "Have you flipped your lid? I can hear you down the hall. _They_ can hear you down the hall. Are you trying to start a mob?"

Edward started ask Emmett why he wasn't in his classroom, but the words died on his lips as he caught sight of the room. There had to be at least a couple dozen more kids crammed in the their classroom than before, singing and dancing. Where they'd come from he didn't know. More were crowded in the door way, trying to get in on the ruckus.

Edward yanked his fingers off the keys, but it was too late. The other students carried on as if he'd never stopped playing.

_I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs_

_I'm real nervous, but it sure is fun _

He could hear the principal on the other side of crowd, herding students back to their respective classrooms.

Edward looked back to the door. Teachers had already broken through the wall of students, shouting all manner of threats. It was a matter of minutes before they had the class settled and self-preserving classmate fingers pointed at him.

There was nothing he could do about it now and frankly that sounded alright to him.

Emmett looked on in dismay as he shrugged impetuously and finished the song with a flourish.

_C'mon baby, drive me crazy_

_Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Fire!_

* * *

_Uh Oh! Edward done lost his mind. _The lyrics in the story are from the song Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis. Very cheeky and rebellious in its day and age. Very catchy and fun now.


End file.
